


pom poms and polyester

by extras (karlnaps)



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys in Skirts, Cheerleaders, Coming Out, Football, Hickies, M/M, Quarterback dream, anw, cheerleading captain george, i have an obsession with skirts rn so i wrote this, im sorry i didnt put sapnap in this :( i love him so much tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karlnaps/pseuds/extras
Summary: “Holy shit dude,” Noah, one of his teammates, said as Dream stepped into the locker room.“What?” He asked, confused at the other boy’s reaction.“Who went to fuckin’ town on your neck over there?” Noah asked, eyeing the red and purple marks splayed across his throat.“No one,” he said quickly, not wanting him and George to be outed.“Alright, whatever you say, man,” he responded easily, smirking as a hot blush covered Dream’s face.or,They’re the classic highschool couple, Dream’s the star quarterback and George is the head cheerleader, there’s only one key difference.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 338





	pom poms and polyester

**Author's Note:**

> lowkey banged this out in like a couple hours, hope you enjoy! (special thank u to sprinto for letting me finish this)
> 
> ALSO idk how football and cheerleading work like at all so all of my knowledge is from fic, books & movies, so apologies if this is all wrong :]
> 
> also it is 3 am as im posting this so idk if any of this fic is coherent uhhhh yeah thats all hope u guys like!!

“Holy shit dude,” Noah, one of his teammates, said as Dream stepped into the locker room. 

“What?” He asked, confused at the other boy’s reaction.

“Who went to fuckin’ town on your neck over there?” Noah asked, eyeing the red and purple marks splayed across his throat.

“No one,” he said quickly, not wanting him and George to be outed. 

“Alright, whatever you say, man,” he responded easily, smirking as a hot blush covered Dream’s face.

He quickly changed, getting into his pads and jersey, and running onto the field. He led them through warm up, stretches, and a couple drills before their coach came over. They talked a little bit of strategy for their next game, which was on Friday. They then went through some more drills, their coach leading them through them this time, but Dream’s mind was anywhere but the field in front of him.

Mostly, he thought about George. George’s muscular legs in the tiny skirt all the cheerleaders wore. George’s pale skin under his fingertips, his perfect, pink lips. George’s big eyes, deep pools that Dream could probably stare into forever. The lilt to his voice when he talked, how his accent got stronger the more tired he was. 

Finally, practice was over, and everyone headed back to the locker room to shower and get changed. Dream desperately hoped no one would comment on the hickies littering his inner thighs, dark color contrasting sharply with the pale flesh of his leg.

He safely made it through the showers, and changed quickly. As he and the rest of his team walked outside of the locker room once again, where they spotted the cheerleaders ending their practice, stretching lightly in a circle. Dream couldn’t help but stare at George’s thighs as he bent over, the muscles shifting as dipped his head lower, completely folding in half.

He heard someone whistle behind him, then a slap and a voice, “Not cool, dude, they’re not objects.” Dream quietly thanked god for Noah’s existence. He was probably the only tolerable one on the football team. 

Realizing they had all stopped in a blob to watch the cheerleaders, Dream started walking towards his car when he heard footsteps behind them. “So dude,” Cole asked, “which one of them is yours?” 

“None of them,” Dream said quickly, blushing subtly when Cole scoffed.

“Come on dude, I know it’s one of them bitches. You’re the football captain for fuck’s sake, and you’re blushing right now.”

“Wow, Cole,” he said sarcastically, “don’t you think that’s a little stereotypical? And don’t call women ‘bitches’ it’s not like you could pull any of them”

“Okay, ignoring that last comment, we all know I get mad pussy, bro. And judging from the hickies on your neck, and the way you were staring at all that ass, you’re definitely banging one of ‘em,” he stated confidently.

“Goodbye, Cole,” Dream said tiredly, pointedly getting into his car and shutting the door. He wasn’t really that mad at Cole, he was only curious after all, but it was tiring not being out. He didn’t like the fact he couldn’t shout from the rooftops that George was his, and _only_ his, couldn’t walk each other to classes, fingers linked together, or give each other little kisses throughout the day, and it sucked.

But he knew it was better, both for their reputations and safety, that they stayed closeted. But that didn’t mean he didn’t hate it more and more with each passing day. He sighed and pulled out his phone, lounging in the driver’s seat as he waited for George to come out after his practice.

He didn’t have to wait very long, as he saw George’s head of brown hair walking quickly towards his car, despite how short he was. George climbed into the passenger seat of Dream’s car, and he pulled out of the parking lot once he was buckled. 

He drove them both to his house, as they were going to have a little “study date.” They were out to both of his parents, and they absolutely adored George, letting him come over whenever. As Dream pulled into his driveway, he noted that his sisters weren’t home yet, probably over at Tommy’s or something. 

He dragged George in the front door, wanting to make the most of the empty house. They stepped out of their shoes in the doorway, Dream setting down his football gear in the mudroom. They ran up the stairs and into Dream’s room, giggling like little kids. They dropped their backpacks on the floor, and George crowded Dream onto the bed, stealing a kiss before drawing back to stare at Dream.

“I missed you today,” he said quietly, usually not one for verbal affection.

“Missed you too, baby,” Dream grinned back, laying on the bed, his blond hair spread under him like a halo.

George climbed onto the bed too, thighs straddling Dream’s waist, the hem of his cheerleading skirt brushing Dream’s stomach as it hung down. George leaned down, pressing his lips against Dream’s, hands moving to grip the back of his head softly. He wound his slim fingers into Dream’s hair, tightening around the blond waves.

George’s lips were wet with a mix of spit and mango chapstick, and Dream could feel the soft slide of them against his own. He gasped as George’s pale fingers pulled slightly on his hair, opening his mouth slightly, enough for George to quickly slip his tongue in.

George ground his hips down, pressing into Dream, who arched off the bed in search of more contact, letting out a high whine. His voice was tight and strangled, and George smirked into his mouth at how fast he could make his boyfriend needy beneath him.

George continued to draw small noises out of Dream’s lush, red, lips, spit slicked and shiny in the afternoon light. George’s hips ground down in small circles against Dream, blue polyester skirt meeting the grey fabric of Dream’s sweatpants. 

George pulled back, admiring Dream’s face and body, pillowed on the bed under him. He ducked back down, sucking more marks into Dream’s neck on top of the fading ones from earlier. George loved to mark Dream, let everyone know he was taken, even if they didn’t know by whom. With George’s mouth busy against Dream’s neck, the blond’s lips were swollen and parted against the still air, little gasps and moans filtering through the silence of his bedroom.

Satisfied with his work, George pulled back from the other’s neck, instead reaching into his bedside table for the lube. “Ready, Dreamie?” George asked, teasingly, as Dream quickly nodded and shucked off his sweatpants and boxers. George set the bottle of lube down, and began to take off his cheerleading uniform when a tan hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Wait, George, keep it on,” Dream said, blushing slightly at the implication.

“Aw, baby, do you want me to fuck you with the skirt on?” George asked, a genuine question filtering through the condescending tone he put on.

Dream nodded again, cheeks still warm and red. George laughed, and helped Dream to pull his plain tee shirt over his head, leaving him completely naked in front of George.

And he was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones and jawline complimented his rosy cheeks, and flowing blond hair. The expanse of his skin covered strong muscles, trained by football and many days in the gym. His day-old stubble created a shadow over his jaw, and the hickies on his neck contrasted perfectly with the pale skin beneath them.

He had a blond happy trail, leading the way to his dick, the base covered in finely curled hair. His length was flushed and red, pointing up towards his stomach in arousal, and leaking slightly. The head was pink with small amounts of precum spilling over, as George watched him hungrily.

The brunette spread a thin layer of lube over his pointer and middle fingers, warming it up a little while he used his clean hand to spread Dream’s legs. Dream had himself propped up on his elbows, watching George in between his thighs. 

His hole fluttered in anticipation, he couldn’t wait to have George inside him. He loved being sore from weightlifting or football, but being sore from George splitting him open with his cock was always his favorite type of soreness. 

He saw George move his arm slightly, gasping as he felt the slippery tip of his finger circle his hole, before lightly pressing in. He felt himself clench slightly around the digit, gasping at the intrusion. George pressed his finger in further, curling it slightly, feeling the drag against Dream’s walls. George had this certain look in his eyes, Dream thought, it’s almost hungry. He loved it when George looked at him like that, like he’s something to be cherished.

George kept thrusting his one finger in and out of Dream, feeling him relax around him. He then adds his pointer finger in, and Dream gasped, arching his back off the bed. He swore he could see sparks behind his eyelids, the pleasure building up in a pool under his stomach.

George curled the two fingers slightly, long, pale digits finding his prostate, and brushing over it, not quite hitting it. It’s agony, but it’s agony in the best way. He’d never admit it, but Dream loved the teasing, the long and agonizing buildup only made his inevitable orgasm that much better, that much stronger.

He’s not past begging, stuttering “pleases” and “gods” and whispered curses flowing from his mouth, past plush, bitten lips. His legs are shaking now, thigh muscles clenching and unclenching, he noticed belatedly. He knew George was aware of this from the little smirk on his face, and the way his lithe fingers flex on the soft skin of his upper leg. George added a third finger, cooing at the way Dream keened, a high whine escaping his mouth. 

“Please, George, need you to fuck me, gonna cum, gonna cum,” He begged, voice going breathy as George kept fucking him with his fingers.

George sighed out an “okay” at him, then removed his fingers, wiping them on Dream’s discarded underwear. He pulled off his own boxer briefs, leaving the polyester skirt and shirt on for Dream’s benefit. Dream, still lying on his back, legs bent at the knee and spread wide, pouted at the loss of contact.

“You asked for me to fuck you, Dream, you can’t pout when I stop touching you to get ready,” George laughed, flicking his shin lightly.

“But Georgie, I miss you so much,” He put on a whiney voice that was honestly only partially for show. George laughed again, slicking up his dick with lube, feeling Dream’s eyes on him, tracing the lines of his body, the way his cock lifted the skirt up, the fabric bunched up at the front of his waist, falling around the rest of his body, barely covering his cute ass.

Dream thought about how lucky he was, an especially soft thought for the position they were in, and stared at George’s face. He’s so pretty, with his dark hair and eyes, soft, pale skin, delicate features, and rosy, pink lips. Dream can’t wait to get fucked by him.

“Ready, Dreamie?” George asked, lining himself up between Dream’s legs. Dream nodded furiously, eyes big and pleading when they connected with George’s. George pushed forward, the head of his cock catching on Dream’s rim, pulling a strangled moan from between swollen lips.

He pushed further in, watching Dream’s face for signs of pain, and finding none. He found purely pleasure in the pools of his green eyes. When he finally bottomed out Dream gasped, feeling the fabric of George’s skirt brush up against the smooth, sensitive skin of his thighs, then groaned out an “O-oh, fuck, George, so full, thank you, thank you,” his voice rough and destroyed. 

He felt so full with George slamming into him, but he wanted more, He wrapped his legs around George’s body, wanting him deeper. George had his hands on Dreams naked hips, fingers rubbing small circles into the sensitive flesh as he pounded into Dream. Stuttered groans and gasps escaped from Dream’s mouth as he neared his orgasm.

George reached one of his hands over, grasping Dream’s cock, and slowly running his fingers over it, not providing nearly as much pressure as Dream wanted. He made a strangled sound, coming from deep in his throat and pressed his hips up to meet George’s hand.

“Now, now, none of that, baby,” George smirked as Dream whined in response. George leaned down to capture his lips, the kiss messy from the jostling of George’s hips hitting the backs of his thighs. Moans spilled from Dream’s lips, the sounds muffled by George’s mouth on his. George’s hand snaked down between their bodies, roughly grabbing Dream’s flushed, red, cock and moving his hand up and down it. Dream’s moans grew louder and he finally spilled over, covering George’s hand and his bare stomach. George gently pulled out of him, cock still hard and red, his cheerleading skirt all rucked up over his hips, and pressed a soft kiss to Dream’s lips.

George brought his hand up to start jacking himself off when Dream stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Wait,” he mumbled, “let me.” George shifted himself so he was kneeling up by Dream’s head, within his reach. The other boy was still laying flat on his back, blissed out from his own orgasm, with cum still drying on his stomach.

Dream took George in his hand, starting to move slowly, before speeding up. Dream knew George was already close, and this wouldn’t take very long. George stared down at him, blond hair a mess underneath him, naked, tanned skin contrasting with his bedsheets, lips kiss bitten and shiny with spit. 

“Fuck, Dream, I’m close,” he gasped out, abs clenching under the fabric of his cheerleading top, skirt moving and brushing up against him whenever Dream’s hand moved.

“Want you to come on my face, please, George, please,” Dream begged, opening his pretty pink mouth expectantly. George groaned and came all over Dream’s hand, cheeks, and into him open mouth.

“Fuck, George, that was so hot,” Dream giggled, bringing his dirty hand to his mouth, licking over his fingers and palm, cleaning them completely of George’s cum. George brought his fingers to one of Dream’s cheeks, dipping his fingers into the liquid, and bringing them to Dream’s mouth.

Dream brought the digits into his mouth, using his tongue to completely clean George’s fingers, before suckling on them, running his tongue up and down them and sucking them further into his mouth, hallowing his cheeks like he was giving a blow job.

If George hadn’t just orgasmed a minute ago, he would have been hard again, his dick giving a valiant twitch underneath his skirt. “Fuck, baby, that’s hot,” he said, a deep laugh rising in his throat.

Dream smiled serenely, and closed his eyes, tired from school, practice, and the thorough fuck he just received. George smiled down at him before getting up off the bed, letting him rest a little bit. 

George borrowed some of Dream’s underwear, his was ruined, and threw his and Dream’s clothes into the hamper just outside his room. He then went to the bathroom, grabbing a towel, wetting it, and walked back over to Dream, now sleeping peacefully on the bed. He cleaned off his abs and face the best he could without waking the other boy, then slipped some boxers over his legs and hips. 

Satisfied with the cleanup, George set an alarm on his phone, then cuddled up next to Dream, and fell asleep, bodies pressed together.

George groaned as he heard the alarm go off, about a half hour later. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and turned over to look at Dream. He smiled at George, then told him he was going to get up to take a shower.

George kissed him, nice and slow, then said, “okay, I’m gonna stay out here, I should probably get some homework done before I go home.” Dream hummed in agreement, then grabbed some clothes and headed off to the bathroom.

George sighed contently, then reached over to his backpack, pulling out his math homework, and resigned himself to a long night of derivatives. 

________________

On game days, both cheerleaders and football players alike came to school dressed in their uniforms. This usually wasn’t a problem, however, this week, whenever Dream saw George in his little uniform, all he could think of was that afternoon, George’s little miniskirt swaying as he fucked Dream. The feeling of the fabric against the backs of his thighs, the way it moved as he jacked George off until he came all over his face, the way it was all disheveled once they had finished. This Friday, it seemed as though Dream had a permanent blush with how much he saw George in his uniform throughout the day.

The day passed at a molasses like pace, and Dream couldn’t wait for it to be over. Finally, the last bell rang and he and his teammates made their way over to the stadium.

They quickly changed, wanting to get a couple drills in before the other team showed up. This was the last game of their season, the last game of Dream’s high school career, and he really wanted to win. The team they were playing, the dolphins, was good, but they still had a chance.

As the captain he went up to half field for the coin flip. Before every game he asked George if he should pick heads or tails, today George had decided tails. The referee flipped the coin, and it landed on… tails! He smirked to himself as he shook hands with the opposing team’s captain.

They were on offense first, so Dream jogged onto the field with the rest of his teammates. The game was fast paced and rough, more so than usual. The field was quickly muddied from the players’ cleats tearing up the grass. The half passed quickly, though, and they were tied 28-28 as both teams hurried off the field.

Dream would never admit it to his teammates, but halftime was definitely his favorite part of every game. After the marching band played a couple songs, it was the cheerleaders’ turn to do a routine. Dream loved to watch George when he was completely in the zone. His delicate features schooled into a hard look, body taut and muscles tense as he and the others did all types of flips, bends, and tricks.

George’s skirt swayed around his hips as he kept moving, drawing Dream’s eye towards the other boy. God, he had to get himself under control, he thought, trying to focus back in on the game. He sighed, pushing his hand through his wavy hair, roughly.

Too soon after, the cheerleaders’ routine was done, and Dream had to get back onto the field. He pulled his helmet back onto his head, adjusting the buckle, before jogging to the middle. The game passed rather quickly, the score staying tied, as whenever either team would make a touchdown, the other one would make one too, evening up the score so neither could pull ahead. With three minutes and counting left in the game, the air was tense on both sides. 

They were on offense again, and Dream found himself with the ball in his hands after the snap. Thinking quickly, he ran up one side of the field, nimbly avoiding the backliners coming his way, until more kept coming his way. Figuring he could avoid all of them, he fires a pass off to his running back, who’s tearing down the side of the field, completely open save for one player in front of him.

He catches the ball, feints to the right, then goes left, sprinting past the dolphin’s player as fast as he can, and then, he’s in the endzone. They’ve pulled ahead, and they just need to keep their lead for another minute. As the clock starts up again, and their kicker kicks another field goal, Dream motions to his team to keep stalling, they’ve got this in the bag.

He watches the clock tick down, seemingly slower than ever before, taking what feels like 30 seconds to pass only five.Soon enough the buzzer sounds and the game is over. It’s over and they won, shouts and whoops fill the air around him, and he rushes towards the side of the field.

He meets George’s eyes across the fence separating the spectators from the players, both of their faces flushed red with happiness and warmth. George launched himself into Dream’s arms, the waist-high fence still caught between them. He mumbled congratulations into Dream’s ear, the world loud and blaring around them, yet neither of them noticed, too caught up in their own little world. Dream using two fingers to lift up George’s chin, their eyes meeting in the warmth of the evening. “Can I?” Dream asked quietly, and George nodded, “as long as you’re sure, Dream.” 

Dream grips his jaw and brings their mouths together, sparks once again filling the backs of his eyelids, a fitting celebration for the game they just one. The closed mouth kiss suddenly turned deeper, George opening his mouth for Dream to slip his tongue in. Dream swiped his tongue over George’s lip, the inside of his mouth, his teeth. They pull back to breathe, noticing they’re still in public, both flushing down to their neck.

His team is shouting at them, some of the cheerleaders and whooping and giggling as well. He heard Noah’s distinct voice, “Okay, get it Dream!!” He laughed. He felt content in that moment, like everything was completely right, the winning game done, with the love of his life by his side, it was perfect.

Reluctantly pulling away from George, he walked back over to the locker room with the rest of his team. He entered the changing room, most of the rest of his team behind him. He opened his locker, pulling out his clothes, trying to change and get back to George as soon as he could.

“Hey, Dream!” someone shouted as he turned towards them, “so who’s the top and who’s the bottom?” He heard raucous laughter as he felt his ears turn red.

“Fuck off,” he shouted back.

“Come on Dream, you gotta tell us. I mean there’s no way you’re not the top right? Like, look at you and look at that little twink over there, man, there’s no way you’re someone’s bitch,” Cole said laughing.

“Why do you care so much, you want in or something?” Dream asked, as innocently as possible.

“No, dude, what the fuck, that’s sus as hell, dude,” he said, incredulously.

“Then I don’t see why it’s any of your fucking business,” Dream responded coldly, then turned and stalked out of the lockerroom.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted when he saw George leaning on the wall over to the side, “sorry for the wait.”

“No problem,” George said, a happy bounce in his step. “I really am proud of you, you know?” he said, grabbing onto Dream’s free hand.

Dream laughed, blushing and ducking his head. “Thanks,” he said, “you did amazing tonight, too.” George hummed in response and let go of Dream’s hand to get into his car, grabbing it again over the center console as soon as they were both in and buckled.

They drove home through the warm night, cheeks flushed red, and happy.

**Author's Note:**

> [a/n] hello this is me saying that i believe in bottom dream supremacy and i hate how just bc one person is more feminine it means everyone assumes they’re the bottom. bc like,,,,,, this is a gay relationship there are no girls in it and assuming the one in the skirt is the one who gets fucked seems a little off to me? anyways i do love me a good cheerleading au tho so!!! idk i had fun with this!!
> 
> follow me on twt @quackitieshq pls :] i love friends
> 
> (sorry i have a lot of thoughts on this and people saying “we have one rule here, george is the bottom” just feel like,,,, very off to me? esp since a lot of the time its like girls who are minors speculating on this? idk feels kinda weirdchamp to me, esp since like people a lot of the time associate feminine traits with bottoms IDK IM RAMBLING IM SORRY i write them both as switches (but in reality they aren't either bc they are straight) bc idk people seem to not only be strictly tops or bottoms in relationships? idk that's just kinda my perspective/experience) hope you enjoyed!


End file.
